


Marry Your Monsters

by slash-em-up (writeonrice)



Category: Laid to Rest (2009)
Genre: Doggy Style, F/F, F/M, Fix-it fic, Jesse is a giant sass-hole, L2R2 AU, M/M, Miranda loves it, Oral Sex, Pregnant Character, Pregnant Sex, Preston can suck a dick - just not Jesse's, Spann wins employee of the century, Standing Sex, Suicide Attempt, but I'm a ho for a happy ending, giving Mrs. Cromeans justice, in this house we don't just introduce a bitch and kill her off 60 seconds later, it's gonna get dark, many sexytimes, married couples are awesome, this week on 'Help I Married a Serial Killer'
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24412066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeonrice/pseuds/slash-em-up
Summary: Preston takes a different tactic in his quest to usurp the title of Chromeskull, dragging Mrs. Cromeans into the mix and throwing a once-happy marriage into turmoil. L2R2 AU
Relationships: Chromeskull/Wife, Jesse Cromeans/Miranda Cromeans, Jesse Cromeans/Mrs. Cromeans
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Miranda Cromeans needed to pee. Again. 

She sighed deeply and glared at the blue glowing clock on the bedside table – it seemed to mock her as the text changed to read 3:05 AM.

The California King-size bed was nearly bare in the humid Florida night; but that didn’t stop the small trickle of sweat from rolling down Miranda’s neck as she pushed herself into a seated position and tilted to her feet. 

The swell of her pregnant belly offering a significant counter-weight and she took a moment to steady herself.

The nurse at her OBGYNs office had looked at her with sympathy when she told her that Jesse was 6’7”. 

Carrying around what amounted to a bowling ball on her stomach for seven months made Miranda understand the look better than she would have liked.

Shuffling to the bedrooms en-suite, she silently cursed her husband for ‘blessing’ her with his gargantuan offspring. Sure, when the baby came she’d love it and nurture it and probably be head over heels for the infant – but that was far from a comfort when she had to pee every hour, could barely fit her swollen feet into her shoes, and threw up at the slightest provocation. 

Pregnancy was great. 

_‘And thank you, Jesse, for being here with me through the whole damn ordeal…’_

Mentally, she scolded herself for that last thought. Miranda had always accepted that her husband’s work would force him away from her for long periods of time – it came with the territory when you were running your own company, and Jesse always made it up to her when he came back… but it had been nearly three months and she hadn’t even gotten a video-message from her erstwhile spouse. Even for them, that was a very long time…

A voice in the back of her head whispered meanly that it was a good thing that they’d both signed a prenup. Divorce would go a lot smoother that way.

Miranda shook her head to clear those invasive thoughts, as if the motion could literally knock them from her mind. 

Of course she didn’t want to divorce her husband; but what was she supposed to think when she’d only received brisk, one sentence texts from the man for fucking months?!

Waddling back to the bed, she stared longingly at the empty side of the mattress.

She missed him.

Missed his familiar weight at her back; missed the cheeky grin he’d sport after intentionally flustering her; missed the way he smelled; missed the way his eyes softened when he signed her name…

Damn, these hormones were turning her into a sap.

Grabbing her phone from the table Miranda quickly flipped through her texts, hoping for a message from Jesse. Of course there wasn’t, and she immediately felt worse for having checked. 

She opened up their message chain and tapped into the text box, fingers hovering over the letters she desperately wanted to type.

_‘Where are you?’_

_‘I miss you’_

_‘Do you want to know the sex of the baby? You do remember we’re having a baby, right?’_

Instead she wrote;

**M: U up?**

Fucking hell.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as the phone began to ring in her palm, Jesse’s picture on the screen.

Jesse was CALLING her?!

She pressed the green icon and tentatively raised the phone to her ear.

“…. Jesse?”

A voice answered.

“I’m afraid not Miranda. My name’s Preston – do you remember me?”

Miranda wracked her brain, vaguely recalling a handsome man she’d met some time ago in passing.

“Yeah… you work with my husband, right?”

She didn’t have to see his face to know the smile that could be heard in his voice was less than kind.

“Right. Well, I thought you should know, Jesse’s in the hospital. He’s had a… uh… pretty major accident, and, well… you should probably be here with him.”

A choked “What?!” was all that Miranda could manage as she struggled to sit up.

Her heart simultaneously dropping into her stomach and pounding harder than if she’d run a marathon.

“Where is he?! What happened? I’ll call a cab right now – what hospital is he in?”

Prestons tone didn’t match the level of urgency she was feeling and Miranda was beginning to resent him for it.

“He’s in a private medical facility on the west side. I’ll send a car around for you – pack a bag; you might want to stay for awhile.”

“Of course… please, send the car, I’ll be ready when they get here.”

She was already tossing items onto an overnight case. Pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts she quickly removed the six pairs of socks she’d unwittingly packed.

She needed to focus. 

Preston gave a perfunctory ‘goodbye’ before hanging up, but Miranda has already stopped listening. 

It was time to go see her husband.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda meets Preston and Spann, and finds Jesse

The black car glided smoothly down the dimly lit streets in the industrial district of Jacksonville. 

A mounting sense of trepidation clung to Miranda as she gazed out the tinted window and worried her wedding ring with her free hand.

“Where exactly is this place?”

The driver peered back at her from the rearview mirror and gave a monotone “Not much farther, ma’am.” in reply to her query.

This did absolutely nothing to calm Miranda’s nerves, and she silently cursed herself for getting flustered and just climbing into the back of this -quite honestly- random car.

_‘Randi, this is how people get kidnapped and murdered…’_

Did the voice in her head sound a lot like her mother? Maybe.

The streetlights cast everything in a sickly yellow glow as they passed non-descript building after non-descript building before rounding a corner and pulling through a wrought-iron gate, which closed with a loud grinding noise behind them.

This had definitely been a bad idea.

Miranda hadn’t _tried_ to run since she’d hit her second trimester; but she was pretty sure she could manage a decent sprint as long as she didn’t overbalance or trip on her flowing skirt – maternity fashion was an oxymoron, and no one could convince her otherwise – and as the driver exited the vehicle to briefly talk with a black-dressed man holding a _very_ large gun, she prepared to cold-cock him as soon as the door opened. 

The only thing that stopped her was the appearance of a vaguely-familiar, professionally dressed woman exiting the building and addressing the two men before making her way over to the car.

She offered Miranda a tight smile as she pulled the door handle open.

“Hello Mrs. Cromeans, it’s lovely to officially meet you – I’m Spann. Apologies for the wait, you made much better time than we anticipated.”

Miranda briefly returned the smile and thankfully grasped the women’s offered hand to pull herself out of the car.

“I’d like to see my husband now.”

Spann nodded in understanding.

“Of course. I’ll bring you to Mr. Preston, and he’ll be happy to take you to see Mr. Cromeans.”

Motioning for the driver to grab Miranda’s bag, Spann led the way into the building.

The interior didn’t do much to calm her nerves.

If it weren’t for the groups of people she saw milling about the room – each intently focused on some unknown task – Miranda would have thought the building to be abandoned.

Large sheets of plastic wafted in a breeze pipped in from the giant, dripping A/C vents in the ceiling, making the room at once cool and unpleasantly damp. A sheet drifted away long enough to offer a view of some kind of machine shop where several men stood grinding and hammering at what looked like a variety of knives.

What the fuck kind of hospital was this?

A loud call of “Miranda!” shook her from her contemplation, and she could see a man making his way across the cement floor towards them.

Preston was pretty much exactly as she recalled from their brief meetings in years prior – pressed suit (probably expensive), slicked back dark hair, and a jawline that Miranda was sure caused many women and men to swoon with lust.

However, living with a man who couldn’t verbally communicate had given Miranda a decent edge on reading people’s body-language, and, most importantly, their eyes.

When they say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, they really aren’t kidding. 

Jesse and she had had many a cross-room conversation by looks alone, and when she looked into Preston’s eyes she felt… slimy. This immediately put her on edge as the man came in close, grabbing her elbow and leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“It’s great to see you again.”

Miranda returned his smile – she could fake it just as well as he could.

“Like-wise. Thanks for contacting me. Can I see Jesse now?”

Preston stepped back, eyes flicking from her face to her swollen belly and back again.

“Soon. I’m sure you’d like to get settled first though – long car rides can’t be good for the baby.”

Her jaw twitched in annoyance.

“It’s fine – please take me to my husband.”

Spann chose this moment to interject.

“Mrs. Cromeans, I believe the surgeon is in with him right now. Perhaps I can get you a cup of tea while you wait? I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

God damn these people. Miranda’s hands were starting to shake as the stress of the night caught up to her, and she knew at least Spann noticed before she could clasp them together in front of her.

Preston was nodding in agreement, opening his mouth for what would probably be some semi-demeaning platitude before Spann jumped in once more.

“Or I could take you to his room – you’d have to wait outside for a moment; but at least you’d be close-by…”

Miranda was quick to answer an affirmative to that suggestion, noting the way Preston glared at Spann for daring to talk over him.

Keeping pace with the smaller woman was easy as the pair strode away from the main room and down a darkly painted hallway.

“Thank you.” Miranda quietly murmured.

Spann didn’t reply; but the smile she sent back to the taller blonde wasn’t quite as tightly professional as it had been earlier.

They came to a stop in front of a slightly rusted metal door – and Miranda was once again struck by the heavy feeling of dread that this was one of those instances where public medical care wasn’t an option. 

She wasn’t prone to dramatics quite as often as her husband was; but pregnancy was making her abnormally emotional – she could already feel herself spiraling into a tailspin of wild conjecture as to what Jesse had gotten himself involved in.

_‘Oh god, it’s drugs, it has to be. Jesse’s a drug lord and he’s been shot by a rival gang…_

_… Or he’s gotten into gun smuggling and the ATF is after him…_

_… I’m going to have to change my name and my hair color and give birth in a fucking bathtub…_

_… oh my GOD Jesse, I will never forgive you for this!!’_

With a deep exhale Miranda pushed through the doorway, terrified she’d end up face-to-face with her husband’s corpse.

The room… was empty.

Blue eyes scanned the space, grasping tightly to her distended stomach for comfort – only to gasp as the baby gave a sharp kick to her insides.

Miranda grunted in discomfort and sat on the rolling bed settled in the corner of the room.

“Come on sweetie – not now, Mommy’s busy…”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the door to the room’s bathroom swung wide, allowing for the unmistakably tall form of her husband fill the doorway.

Miranda stared.

“Oh my god… Jesse…”

_‘What the fuck was on his face?!’_

The door slammed shut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda and Jesse 'talk'

Miranda stared at the door for only a few moments before pulling herself to her feet and moving quickly over to the bathroom.

She knocked on the door.

“Jesse?”

Nothing.

“Jesse it’s me - it’s Miranda… baby, come out.”

Her phone vibrated in her bag, and, giving a last glance at the door, she pulled the device from her purse. 

The text was from Jesse.

**J: What are you doing here?**

Miranda felt her lips pull down into a deep frown as she turned back to the bathroom.

“Well, I haven’t seen you – my husband – in more than three fucking months… and then I get a call from Preston, saying you’d been in an accident and I should be with you… what part of that was supposed to stop me from coming?”

The phone dinged almost immediately.

**J: I’m alive, go back home.**

_“WHAT?!”_

Miranda pounded on the door.

“Jesse get the fuck out here and talk to me!”

The light filtering out from under the door faded to black as a click sounded - he’d turned out the lights in the room. God damn him.

Sighing in disgust Miranda turned back to face the room, looking back towards the entrance and gazing despondently at Spann, who didn’t look at all surprised by Jesse’s childish reaction.

… childish… 

…Eh, why not…

Miranda sank back onto the cot with a loud moan.

“Oooohhhhhh my goodddddd, **_JESSE!!!_** The BABY’S COMING!!!!”

She screamed in pain.

The bathroom door flew open with a loud **BANG** , cracking the plaster behind it in Jesse’s haste to get to her side.

He was kneeling in front of her in moments and Miranda was shocked into silence by the state of him.

Some kind of transparent skull-shaped mask covered her husband’s head, his skin, wetly gleaming underneath, looked raw and painful – the expressive face she loved so much was now crossed with heavy scar tissue. 

A single brown eye stared up at her, widening in shock as he realized she wasn’t actually giving birth. 

He stood and turned his back to her.

His hand came up to rest against his mask.

“… oh my god, Jesse… what happened?”

Miranda stood, walking slowly towards the large man.

Jesse flinched when she pressed her hand to his back.

That hurt more than having him abandon her for three months.

Her breath shuddered with emotion as she leaned further in. She honestly didn’t give a fuck if he didn’t want her here, he owed her – so she felt fully justified in pressing her head to his back and taking a deep inhale of his scent as the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

He didn’t smell like he usually did.

That somehow made her cry harder, and as much as she tried to fight it her arms came up to wrap around his broad chest – gripping him with her nails as if that would bring him back to her emotionally as it was physically.

Peripherally, Miranda was aware of Spann closing the door, leaving her alone with her husband for the first time in so very long…

“Why did you leave me?”

Jesse’s head turned minutely in her direction.

“… was there another woman?”

His shoulders rose and fell as he huffed, shaking her against him. 

Her head rose from his back and she glared at him hard.

“That wasn’t a ‘no’, Jesse.”

Jesse turned towards her, keeping his head in profile as he quickly signed to her.

_‘Not like you think’_

Miranda moved to try and look him straight in his remaining eye… oh god, poor Jesse…

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jesse sighed.

_‘I’m not having an affair – if that’s what you’re asking’_

Stepping away, Miranda swiped at her wet cheeks, staring up at her husband.

“Well I’m having a girl, asshole – since you didn’t ask.”

Jesse froze.

His hands were covered in nitrile gloves – long fingers and palms moved towards her stomach and stopped inches from her skin.

Miranda’s eyes flicked across her husbands masked face – she felt like she was about to cry again.

“Touch me, Jesse… please…”

He ripped the gloves from his hands as fast as he could and gently pressed them to her belly.

As if their daughter could sense the presence of her father she kicked against Miranda’s uterus. 

Miranda smiled.

“Can you feel her?”

Jesse nodded slowly, rubbing his hands over her softly – like he’d break her and the baby if he pressed too hard.

“I missed you so much.”

Shuddering, like he was close to tears himself, Jesse bent to press his mask lightly against Miranda’s head. 

She sighed into his shoulder and sniffled- ‘like a sap’ she thought.

“Don’t you dare do this to me again, Cromeans…”

Jesse shook his head against her hair, making her giggle tearfully into his shirt. 

What was turning into a sweet reunion was ruined as Miranda yawned loudly, making Jesse chuckle silently above her.

“Jerk! I’ve been up since three AM! Don’t laugh at me.” 

He spun her in his arms and rested himself against her back, wrapping his strong arms around her stomach.

She felt… right, for the first time in months.

“Sleep with me?”

Jesse jerked in surprise. His arms came up in front of her face. 

_‘Isn’t that what got us here in the first place?’_

Miranda hid her smile by pulling Jesse’s hands in to her face and lightly kissing his thumb.

“Smart-ass…” she murmured against his skin.

Not turning around, Miranda pulled her husband towards the cot – respecting what he seemed to be trying to convey to her and not looking at his ruined face.

Thankfully, the cot had been designed with someone of Jesse’s stature in mind, and it was more than wide enough to fit the two of them laying pressed together.

“I love you.” 

Before he’d disappeared, Miranda would have never waited in suspense for Jesse’s response to that statement like she was now.

She held her breath as he remained motionless against her back, pressed as tightly as he could get to her body.

His fingers curled around and caressed the linen-covered skin of her stomach in a swirling pattern.

_‘LUV-U-2’_

That was enough for now. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Husband and wife get reacquainted... biblically.

Sleeping in Jesse’s embrace again was beyond comforting, and Miranda was incredibly reluctant to leave, even when her stomach or bladder needed relief.

She’d spent the better part of her pregnancy without someone there to anchor her, and she resented her body’s betrayal at making her leave now that she had it.

Jesse took her periodic departures in-stride and did little more than turn in the bed and drape his long arm back over her when she returned.

The analogue clock on the wall read 10:17 when Miranda woke to find herself alone in the cot. Whether that was AM or PM was harder to determine; but her internal timer said it was probably night.

Running a hand through her hair, Miranda scooted to the edge of the bed and reached for her purse, pulling the leather bag to her and rooting around for a hair-tie.

Locating one, she quickly put her blonde bob into a tail and meandered through the small room towards the bathroom. 

Damn, her back ached. 

She’d never take being able to bend over and crack her spine for granted ever again once this little terror was out of her.

Splashing some cold water on her face from the faucet, she took stock of the spartan quarters. There was no mirror in the bathroom, oddly enough – the medicine cabinet was laid bare, but filled with everything you might need for first-aid.

Which turned out to be very useful a few moments later, as Jesse strode back into the room with blood on his hands.

“ _Jesus,_ Jesse… are you ok?”

He shrugged before crossing behind her, still reluctant to have her look at him head-on.

He ran his hands under her arms, pressing lightly to her sides in an effort to distract her with his touch as he turned the faucet back on, running his knuckles under the stream.

“Did you punch someone? _Fuck_ – you’re bleeding pretty bad… Let me tape that…”

Miranda could feel Jesse’s chest expand and contract against her as he huffed in amusement. 

He’d often joked that she was like a mother-hen, and she continued to prove his playful teasing completely accurate as she inexpertly placed some gauze and surgical tape around his wound.

His long fingers wrapped around her hand for a light squeeze before coming up to tug at her ponytail questioningly.

“I had to get that rats nest out of my face for a bit… I didn’t see a blowout salon on my way in, so get used to it.”

In response, Jesse slid the tie down - freeing her locks before running one large hand across her scalp.

Miranda shivered a bit at the light scratch of his blunt nails against the back of her neck. 

It had been so long since anyone had touched her like that, that even the smallest hint of the passionate caresses they used to share was enough to fluster her.

She audibly gasped – the noise echoing through the small room – as Jesse’s hand moved to gently curl around one of her breasts through the thin linen of her dress.

Miranda’s back stiffened at the contact, causing Jesse to withdraw immediately.

A soft “ _No_ …” left Miranda’s lips at her husband’s retreat.

Jesse paused – hands hovering by her sides – ready to remove himself completely at her prompting.

Slowly, her hand left its place clasping the sink, rising to guide the strong hand in front of her to one of the straps of her dress.

She licked her lips, listening to the heavy breathing of the man behind her.

Guiding his fingers, Miranda helped him lower the black fabric, baring one of her shoulders to his gaze. 

His chest rumbled with a silent groan, making her smile.

——————————————————————————————-

Needing no further prompting, Jesse made short work of the rest of her top and she leaned her head back into his chest at the feeling of the cool air on her breasts – heavier than Jesse remembered as he once again cupped them in his palms. A lovely side-effect of pregnancy.

Her nipples pebbled as the A/C turned on above them.

Miranda moaned and ground her hips back against him as he pinched and worried her soft, sensitive skin.

Jesse was delighted with her reaction – he’d always loved playing with her tits; but whether because of their time apart, or the additional sensitivity of her condition, Miranda was nearly panting from how wonderful his hands felt.

He’d deny it until the day he died; but having a gorgeous woman come apart in his arms – at his touch – while his face was the shambles it had become, was cathartic. 

And he was determined to express his appreciation by making his wife cum as hard as she could.

One part of him was furious that he couldn’t bury his face between her thighs or suckle at the milk starting to well from her breasts; but he pushed that aside in favor of ripping the seam of his wife’s dress until she stood nearly naked in a pool of black.

Maybe the underwear she was currently sporting weren’t the sexiest he’d ever seen her in… but the way she was panting and rubbing her thighs together, desperate for any bit of friction, made her more attractive to him than ever.

She was still turned against the sink; but he could see one curious blue eye peering at him over her pale shoulder.

He wished she knew how widely he wanted to grin as he slowly slid her panties down her hips, making sure to run his thumbs over her ass as he went.

She’s always been his queen; but standing before him like this she was closer to a goddess. All those supple curves softened by her pregnancy; sensitivity heightened until she nearly wept for his touch…

He wished he could marry her all over again.

Jesse was still trying to determine why Preston had brought her here – knowing the man, it wasn’t for anything good; and likely it would have been better if she’d stayed exactly where she had been – for both of them… but fuck if he wasn’t ecstatic when she pushed her hips back with a whine, moaning at the feeling of his erection against her.

Reaching back, he quickly undid the ties holding his hospital gown together and let it join the remnants of her dress on the floor. If he couldn’t get his mouth on her then by god, he was going to get as close to her as he possibly could, in whatever ways he could.

Miranda whimpered as he bent her further over the sink, constantly mindful of her stomach, making sure the precious bump wasn’t pressing against anything harmful.

He didn’t even need to prompt her to spread her legs; she wanted him inside her, connecting them both in ways deeper than words ever could.

Though tall for a woman, Miranda still needed to hoist herself up on her toes to get her pelvis closer to Jesse’s - no mean feat with the extra weight around her middle.

The slick running down her thighs cut short any teasing Jesse might have started at her desperation, but he couldn’t resist running one of his hands between her legs – feeling that warm velvety softness tremble and give beneath his roaming fingers.

“Jesse… Please!”

She writhed and moaned as he slid one, then two long digits into her dripping hole – prepping her for his cock.

Her insides gripped his fingers tightly, holding him in as if her cunt had missed him just as much as she had.

He curled his body over her, pressing his chest to her back and inhaling the sweet smell of her sweat – her sex – everything uniquely Miranda.

This new position gave him space to curl his fingers inside of her and rub at that delicious gland that made her buck and cry out as he pressed it mercilessly.

She was gasping like she did when she was getting close to her finish, and Jesse refused to stop until she did.

——————————————————————————————-

Miranda went rigid and her breath caught as Jesse brought her to orgasm.

He hadn’t even touched her clit, the bastard.

His wrist rolled in time with her hips, keeping constant pressure on her g-spot until she was sure she was about to black out from pleasure.

She batted at his hand until he let up and as she sucked in air like a drowning woman he pressed his mask lightly back into her hair, inhaling deeply.

“…Fuck…” Miranda gasped.

She pressed herself into a standing position, and Jesse moved to accommodate her; backing up and turning ever so slightly as she moved to face him.

His remaining eye was blown wide, and his considerable erection pressed eagerly against her with every inhale.

She brought up her hand to caress the side of his neck, and after a moment of hesitation he softened into her touch.

“I want to ride you… I want to watch you cum inside me… please…”

Jesse paused, considering.

Damn, he could never deny her anything…

——————————————————————————————-

“ _Fucking son of a bitch_ …”

Preston muttered the insult under his breath as he raised the glass of ice up to his jaw.

The bruise from Jesse’s fist driving into his face was already looking pretty spectacular and would probably only get worse – but it was proof-positive in his mind that Jesse was losing his touch.

Going soft.

Even taking liberties with a woman like his wife shouldn’t have driven the man Preston had kiss-assed to for years into such a public and emotional explosion.

Though Preston had to admit, Miranda was a fucking wildcat, even with that nasty parasite growing in her.

Lowering the tumbler, Preston zoomed in on the naked bodies moving together on his computer screen.

His eyes flicked over the scene as he quickly unzipped his pants and palmed his cock.

Jesse Cromeans was finished.

He just didn’t know it yet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A step back. A first meeting.

**17 Years Prior**

This tray of cupcakes was definitely going to fall if Miranda didn’t get over to that table fast enough.

The tall blonde student tried her best to juggle the dozen brightly frosted confections along with her book-bag and was failing miserably.

This had not been a good week.

The semester was nearing its end and for some that meant that all you needed to worry about was your final tests – celebratory parties were already beginning to pop up during all hours of the day in several dorms – but sadly Miranda didn’t have that luxury.

As a pre-law student, Miranda still had her LSATs to worry about, and with the semester winding down for most, the sorority Miranda was treasurer for had decided that one more end-of-year bake-sale would be just the ticket to cement their funding for next fall. 

To Miranda’s annoyance, what brought her to the quad today was neither of those things.

Her elective class in American Sign Language had a final project that was due in a week and she hadn’t even completed the interview she was assigned. 

This was partly because the class wasn’t exactly high on her priority list, and partly because she was truly dreading meeting up with her interviewee.

Several of the deaf and mute students on campus had volunteered to be interviewed by the class to give their introspective on living life with a communication disability. Unfortunately, Miranda had been late to class the day they were assigning partners and had been saddled with Jesse Cromeans.

To say Jesse had a bad reputation on campus would have been an extreme understatement.

He was well known for being a lazy, vain, brutish, man-whore and that was being kind.

Privately, Miranda was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t been kicked out of university entirely was because his grandfather’s name was on every other building and at least one member of his family was on the board of trustees at any given time.

Privileged asshole.

Probably 3\4ths of the way to some pretty painful STDs and dying in a drunken yachting accident.

Arriving at the table, Miranda quickly settled the cupcakes on the surface, adjusting the ones that had shifted around on the tray with a slight jostle. At least that was one less thing for her to worry about. 

Now if only Jesse would get here so she could get this over with.

The meeting time approached.

And passed.

Five minutes late.

Ten minutes late.

Fifteen minutes late.

Miranda sighed in disgust and began to pack up her bag when a large hand entered her peripheral vision and snatched up a green-frosted cupcake.

Another defining characteristic of Jesse Cromeans was that he was tall. Like, really tall. So how he’d managed to move his giant ass all the way across the quad and sneak in close enough to steal a cupcake without Miranda noticing was beyond her understanding.

_‘For me? You shouldn’t have.’_

Miranda gaped in dumbstruck indignation as the arrogant bastard smirked and took a large bite of the confection while swinging one long leg over the side of his chair.

Her lips pursed.

“You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago…”

Jesse continued to chew as he glanced down at his watch. He shrugged.

_‘I got tied up.’_

That was the last straw. All the stress and anger that had been building for the last week was finally coming to a head. 

And she was about to take it out on Jesse Cromeans ass.

“Jesse, I set up this appointment with you a week ago – if you had something else come up you should have told me earlier! I just wasted most of my morning trying to get here!”

The tall man smirked up at her, signing a quick, insincere _‘Sorry’_.

“Oh, fuck off.”

Now it was Jesse’s turn to gape at her; but Miranda was far from done.

“You… arrogant, selfish prick! Just because you have grand-daddy’s money to fall back on doesn’t mean you can waltz all over the rest of us! Some of us are here because we actually want to be – not because it’s the closest source of pussy and coke. I could have spent this morning doing actual work! I was so fucking angry when I got stuck with you as a partner because I KNEW you’d pull something like this! Because you. Don’t. Care. If it doesn’t benefit you it doesn’t even make it onto your radar. You’re an asshole, and you’re going to die alone.”

Jesse was giving her his full attention; brown eyes serious and locked on her face.

_‘Finished?’_

Miranda was breathing heavily as she digested the words that had just come out of her own mouth. 

Oh god.

“Jesse, I’m so sorry… I -”

Jesse waved a hand, cutting her off.

_‘You’re going to make one hell of a lawyer…’_

The comment could have been playful; but the tensing of his shoulders and the flash of hurt in his eyes said it was anything but.

Not knowing what else to do, Miranda murmured another quiet “sorry” at Jesse, not meeting his eyes as she gathered up her bag and retreated back across the quad, not stopping until she was safely back inside her sorority house behind her locked door.

She’d forgotten the cupcakes and several books at the table; but they were the least of her concerns right now.

Feeling lower than low, Miranda slipped into an uneasy slumber.

—————————

The nap did not help. 

Miranda went through the remainder of her day with a cloud over her head. It wasn’t like her to be unnecessarily cruel – which she absolutely had been. The punishment she’d dished out in no way fit the crime he’d committed.

Even the passive-aggressive comments she’d received from the sorority president about ‘losing’ the cupcakes simply bounced off her shell of melancholy.

How do you apologize to someone when your first real interaction included you telling them they were going to die alone?

Miranda was moping on her bed, looking at but not really absorbing her study material when one of her friends popped her head into the room.

“Hey Randi, this was outside your room. Did you lose a book?”

Standing from the bed, Miranda walked over and took the book from the other girl, eyebrows raising when she saw it was the ASL textbook she’d left on the quad.

“Who brought this back?”

The girl shrugged.

“I don’t know – it was just sitting outside. Maybe Krista saw…”

Miranda flipped open the cover and saw a plain white envelope with her name written on it in neat text.

“Uh, thanks, no worries, I’ll figure it out later…”

She closed the door and sat back on her bed, fingering the paper with a sense of dread.

Well, better to rip it off like a band-aid.

She opened the envelope, eyes widening when a hundred-dollar bill fell out with a small bundle of papers.

The first on the stack was a note from Jesse.

_‘Miranda,_

_I’m sorry I was late for our meeting the other day. I’ll admit to being a selfish asshole, and you were fully within your rights to call me out on it._

_I found your interview questions in your book and wrote out my answers for them as best I could – I hope you don’t mind, I added a few jokes and quips – no one would believe we actually ‘talked’ if we didn’t add SOME color to my responses._

_Also, I ate your cupcakes. Sorry about that. I’m not really sure what the going rate is for charity bake-sale goodies, so I hope the enclosed money will cover it._

_I was being serious when I said you’ll be a great lawyer. I hope I never have to see you in court._

_Jesse_

_p.s. I don’t do coke. I haven’t got the fingers to carry off a coke-nail.’_

Re-folding the paper, Miranda wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or get angry at Jesse all over again.

The rest of the packet was the answers to her interview questions that Jesse had promised; but even giving them a cursory read-through, she could already tell she was going to have to edit them heavily. As it turns out, Jesse wasn’t a short-winded guy when you got him going on a topic –and he’d really gone off about what life was like without the ability to speak. 

Miranda was surprised that so many of his answers seemed to be given in complete honesty rather than the infantile jokes and self-aggrandizing she’d expected.

Sure, those were there too – she saw the bit about him being a ‘master debater’ and a ‘cunning linguist’ and rolled her eyes hard enough to give herself a headache – but the parts where he was being forthright were very telling about the person Jesse was behind all the smoke and mirrors.

That was a completely different guy. She thought she might even be able to like him.

Maybe someday they’d run into each other and she could take back her comments in-person.

Only time would tell.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A step back. A second meeting.

**7 Years Prior:**

Barry brayed when he laughed.

This was just a fact, neither negative nor positive – and if that was the only part to that story Miranda wouldn’t be desperate for an excuse to leave his side right now.

An obnoxious laugh wasn’t anything to be ashamed of if it was genuine – the problem was, Barry only laughed like that when he was trying to make inroads with someone. 

Come to think of it, Miranda didn’t think she’d ever heard his real laugh. But she supposed that’s how you made partner at a law-firm by thirty-seven. Brown-nosing like a fool.

However, considering that she’d only agreed to come to the party with the man because he’d put her in connection with people she might otherwise not have even seen, let alone talked to… couldn’t that also be considered a type of boot-licking?

Or just a legal type of prostitution. Fuck. That wasn’t an image she ever wanted in her mind again.

Miranda made a pact with herself then and there – there was no way she was going home with Barry tonight. So help her god, that man would not see her naked.

Ever since she’d graduated law school she’d had to claw and fight for her place in the suit-jacket wearing and cigar-smoking world of defense attorneys. Despite ‘Legally Blonde’ coming out recently she still felt like she was playing a man’s game in a man’s world – woefully ill-equipped in the rules of a game she hadn’t learned how to play just yet. But she would. That’s where Barry came in. 

If only he weren’t so very, VERY boring.

“…so then I said ‘Jimmy, isn’t that from the time we went to Olive Garden together?’ and he said ‘yes!’”

Aaaand off went the laugh. Loud, and right in her ear. She needed something a lot stronger than the champagne she was sipping to get through the night.

“Pardon me gentlemen. I think it’s time for a scotch.” Miranda smiled, excusing herself from the group.

“Oh hey, get me one too, won’t you Mimi? Double, with two ice cubes?”

A murmur of assent rose from the group.

Great. She was the waitress now. And Mimi?! Please. She’d outgrown ‘Randi’ in college and she’d never been a ‘Mimi’.

Her lips thinned as she stared back at the man who’d asked her for a scotch. 

“I think you can order that yourself, Ted. Or do you need me to find a court stenographer around here to read your order back to you?”

A few men in the circle chuckled at her sass. A few winced. Ted narrowed his eyes. 

“Careful Mimi – wouldn’t want that attitude to get back to Mr. Haeyden.”

Haeyden, Haeyden & Lock was the firm Miranda had taken a position with – if Ted was in with Mr. Haeyden that comment might blow her chances of making partner in the next decade or two.

She grimaced but tried to hide it behind a winning smile.

“Two cubes you said, Ted?”

Ted smirked. 

“That-a girl.”

———————-

Miranda just barely refrained from stomping over to the bar to order the drinks.

When did she become such a push-over? Was her career really so important that she was going to let some toupee-wearing jag-off order her around?

Where had her self-respect gone?

God dammit.

She leaned heavily against the bar and ordered the drinks.

“And can I get a shot of tequila for the road?”

The bartender nodded; and then glanced to the side where a person leaned against the bar by Miranda, rapping a knuckle against the wood and holding up two fingers, signaling for the bartender to make that two tequilas.

Internally Miranda groaned, so not in the mood to be hit on right now.

“Look, it’s an open bar -” she started, turning towards the man.

“ - you don’t need to try and…” her sentence cut off as she fully faced the man and looked up… and up… into a pair of familiar warm brown eyes.

“Jesse?”

The man responded with a toothy grin, nodding once.

Time had certainly been kind to him – lean muscle filling in the areas where he’d been too slender in college, attractive wrinkles just barely beginning to form around his eyes and the corners of his mouth.

“You shaved your head…”

Jesse huffed in amusement at her obvious statement, running a hand over his bald scalp.

_‘It’s good to see you Miranda.’_ he signed.

“Wow, it’s really good to see you too. What’s it been, ten years?”

The man nodded, tilting his head to observe her better.

_‘You look good. And here with the H,H & L crew; I guess you finally got what you’d been working for.’ _

Miranda’s ASL was a little rusty; but she still understood the gist of what Jesse was saying.

“Oh yeah… I’ve been there for a couple years now… Right out of Law School actually… And how are you? I didn’t expect to see you at a charity event…”

Their drinks arrived, and Jesse turned away a moment to swipe a few lime slices out of the bar cubbies, handing her one and using his height to bend over and pull a salt-shaker out from behind the counter.

_‘I’m doing fantastic. Can’t you tell by the fact that I came over in the middle of a party to do a free tequila shot?’_

A guffaw of laughter escaped Miranda before she clapped her hand tightly over her mouth – but the damage was done. Jesse was grinning ear-to-ear at her loss of decorum.

She recovered and held her shot glass aloft.

“To a wonderful party.”

Jesse raised his in salute before setting it to the side, licking his hand, and carefully prepping the salt and lime.

Miranda followed suit and met his mischievous glance with a wry grin of her own.

“1, 2, 3!”

They both downed their shots together, coming up with a gag at the cheap taste of the alcohol, and laughing at their childishness.

“I haven’t done that in years!”

Jesse was still smiling as he signed _‘Really? I do that every night.’_

Miranda giggled.

“Still the party-boy, huh?”

The grin stretching across Jesse’s face faltered, and slowly dropped.

_‘Yeah, still that same old asshole.’_

Miranda flinched, all the accusations she’d thrown around so many years ago coming back like a flood.

She straightened, looking Jesse as close to dead in the eye as she could.

“Maybe that asshole wasn’t quite the kind of asshole I was thinking he was.”

Jesse looked at her curiously.

“… I was wrong… maybe I was too quick to come to conclusions about you…I mean, that was really the first time we’d ever talked and -”

Her explanation was cut off by two very unwelcome interlopers.

“Hey Mimi! Where’s that scotch?”

Ted and Barry sauntered up to the counter, standing to her left before noticing who she was talking to – immediately making their way to her side, and crowding her behind them.

“Mr. Cromeans, no one said you’d be here tonight!”

“How’s your grandfather, we heard he hadn’t been in the best of health recently…”

“Business going well? I heard through the grapevine you’d been diversifying your portfolio. Always a smart idea – if you’re interested I can put you in touch with -”

Miranda interjected loudly.

“EXCUSE ME, gentlemen. I believe I was talking with Mr. Cromeans. Perhaps you’d like to order your drinks while we finish our conversation?”

Both men looked at Miranda like she’d grown a second head.

Jesse fought to hold his smile back at their flabbergasted looks; only deigning to raise an eyebrow at the two when they looked to him for a reaction.

_‘You heard the lady.’_

Miranda moved back to Jesse’s side as the two lawyers muttered and slunk off to the other side of the bar.

_‘Don’t take this the wrong way; but I think that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen…’_

The skin on Miranda’s neck heated to what she suspected was a bright red at Jesse’s words, and at her own brashness.

“Good, because I think that probably cost me any hope of a partnership I have in the near future…”

Jesse’s bright-white smile was back full-force as he signed casually.

_‘If you’re really looking for some more serious work, I might have something you’d be interested in. How do you feel about corporate law?’_

Miranda blinked.

“It wasn’t my strongest subject; but I’m a fast learner…”

She leaned forward into the man’s space, feeling emboldened by both the alcohol and the ‘devil may care’ attitude Jesse seemed to exude.

“How about I take you out for drinks and we can talk about it?”

Jesse’s shoulders rose and fell in silent, hearty laughter – eyes bright with delight at her boldness.

_‘Why Miranda, I thought you’d never ask…’_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A step back. A proposal.

**5 Years Prior**

“Jess-A **H** , Jesse… _fuck_ , I have to be in a meeting in an hour – _oh god right there_ … Ahhh…”

The only response Miranda received from the man kneeling between her thighs was a tightening of the large hands wrapped around her hips and a particularly strong suck to her clit.

“ _Jesus_ , please… don’t stop!”

The sensation of teeth nipping gently at her labia nearly brought her straight up from her sprawl, and she couldn’t hold back the cry of pleasure as Jesse crushed her to his mouth, sliding his long tongue as deep into her slit as he could, thrusting and suckling at her pussy until she was sure he would suffocate himself.

“Jesse, _Jesse._.. fuck I’m close… _I’m_ … _**I’m**_ …!!”

Miranda’s hips lifted off her desk as she came with a wail – Jesse’s talented tongue working her through her orgasm until she was a spent puddle atop a pile of contracts.

Jesse crawled up over her limp form until his lips could meet hers. 

His mouth tasted like her, and despite having just had the wind knocked out of her by that same mouth Miranda could feel a fresh pulse of arousal in her cunt. 

God, she would never get enough of this man.

He began to kiss down the length of her neck as she wrapped a long leg around his hips, pulling his erection flush with her and making him gasp against her skin.

Jesse’s business had begun to flourish over the last few years, necessitating his frequent departures across the country. They’d been getting longer and longer recently, and both Miranda and Jesse bemoaned the loss of time they could spend together.

It had become a habit for Jesse to come straight to Miranda – wherever she was – when he arrived back in Florida. Libido high and longing for her company.

He’d been away for two weeks this time – not the longest they’d ever been apart; but long enough for them both to feel the ache of need for the other.

“I missed you so much.”

Jesse leaned up over her so he could sign, looking into her hazy eyes with affection.

_‘I hate being away from you; but if this is the welcome-back I get…’_

He waggled his eyebrows with a grin, making Miranda laugh and push at his shoulder.

“Asshole…”

He dove back down to capture her lips again, kissing her like she was water and he was dying of thirst.

_‘Play hooky today – let’s go rent a motel room and fuck each other’s brains out.’_

Miranda tossed her head back, laughing at his comment – so quintessentially Jesse – hedonistic, reckless, and affectionate. 

“God you’re the worst. I love you.”

A large hand ran through her hair, smoothing her mussed bob as he lay his forehead against hers before pulling away.

_‘Marry me?’_

Miranda froze.

“… What?”

Jesse slowly lifted himself away from her and knelt on the floor, pulling a black velvet box from his suit coat.

He opened it, revealing a large diamond engagement ring, making Miranda gasp – tears beginning to well in her eyes.

She laughed.

“Only you would propose with a boner…”

Jesse grinned, shrugging.

_‘Gotta make sure you know I’m not just a pretty face.’_

“Your timing is awful.”

Jesse faltered.

_‘…why?’_

Miranda smiled, wriggling around to pull her pencil skirt back down her legs before leaning back and pulling a small red box out of her desk drawer.

“Because I was going to propose to YOU tonight.”

Jesse looked down, hiding his own smile, uncharacteristically shy at Miranda’s declaration.

_‘… you snooze, you lose…’_

Miranda giggled softly.

“I adore you, Jesse Cromeans. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Before the words were completely out of her mouth Jesse had her in his arms, lifting her from her seat like she weighed nothing and twirling her in place, making her shriek with laughter. 

He set her down against her office door, pressing her back and kissing her deeply.

_‘I’m going to make you the happiest woman alive.’_

“Tease. I’d like to see you try.”

Jesse grinned. Challenge accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last flash-back chapter. Now back to your regularly scheduled bullshit.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start to head back into movie-territory, which is not great for anyone.

Miranda lay languid and boneless against the thin mattress of the hospital cot. Draped in nothing but scratchy sheets, she felt blissful as she watched Jesse idly caress her leg. Her husband looked at ease for the first time that night- but she supposed a few orgasms would do that to anyone. 

Jesse lay stretched across the opposite end of the cot, Miranda’s limbs tangled with his own as he ran his hands over her exposed skin.

“I think we just made another baby…” she joked quietly.

Jesse huffed and pinched her big toe in reprimand, causing her to giggle. Sliding his hand up, Jesse began to massage Miranda’s calf. 

Her eyes closed with a groan.

“Fuck you have no idea how good that feels…”

The kneading fingers tightened and flexed until the tense knots under her skin released.

Miranda lurched forward in her best attempt at a sultry wriggle while weighed down by her stomach and yanked at Jesse’s shoulder until the tall man was pulled up to lay next to her, moaning silently as Miranda sucked and kissed at the skin of his neck and shoulder.

“Mmm… I wish… you could kiss me…”

Her hand rose to touch the underside of the plastic mask covering his raw skin.

Jesse stiffened against her.

She knew immediately that she’d said the wrong thing as Jesse gently but firmly pulled himself from her embrace.

She sighed.

“I’m sorry…”

Jesse swung his legs so he was sitting on the side of the bed, facing away from her.

“Can – do you… want to talk about it?”

Broad shoulders visibly tightened.

“Jesse it’s going to be okay… we’ll get through this… no matter what happened, it’s not your fault it’s…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before Jesse was up and moving. 

The small metal side table was the first thing to go – flung across the room, smashing into the cement wall with a loud CRASH.

Miranda yelped and jerked as Jesse continued to destroy what little furniture was in the small suite. Chairs and medical equipment were tossed around like they weighed nothing. 

A tray of metal tools crashed against the floor next to the cot, shocking Miranda out of her stasis and prompting her to yell loudly at her husband.

“JESSE STOP!!”

The tall man flew at her like a tower of rage.

His single brown eye blazed as he grasped her shoulders in a nearly crushing grip. His shoulders heaved and he shivered with unspent momentum; and for a moment Miranda was afraid that he didn’t see her – just a new outlet for his destructive energy. 

But he did nothing more than stare at her. Gaze hard, angry, and so different from the man who she’d made love to less than an hour ago.

This was a stranger. 

“… Jesse…”

Nothing.

“Jesse you’re hurting me…”

Strong hands slowly released her bare skin, showing pale, bloodless marks that would definitely turn to bruises later.

The flaming anger in Jesse’s brown eye slowly banked until it was no more, swallowed up by a growing mixture of horror and disgust as he stared down at his naked wife, looking at him like he was dangerous.

He was.

He was dangerous.

More than most knew. 

But he’d never been dangerous to her. 

Never to her.

But now… 

Now his exterior matched the core of him and the monster was finally, fully released. 

He couldn’t stay here.

Without a single glance at Miranda, Jesse grasped his sweats from the pile of clothes on the floor, yanking them aggressively up his hips before marching out of the room. 

He slammed the door, not bothering to lock it behind him as he strode quickly down the hallway.

Where the fuck was everyone, he needed to kill something.

* * *

Anyone who knew Spann would tell you that she was tough to rattle. 

She’d pulled herself up from a life of absolute anonymity to become a key player in The Organization. 

Was this where she wanted to be? 

No, not necessarily.

She had her sights set a bit higher.

ChromeSkull’s right-hand fixer was playing a side-game that she didn’t approve of. If the resolution to that happened to leave his position open? Well, she wouldn’t mind stepping into his shoes. 

She already did most of Prestons job anyway.

Her lips pursed slightly as she shot off a text to her wife, Lisa. The footage from the Miami whores death was taking longer to process than she’d anticipated. 

Another late night at the office.

She sneered at the sound of Prestons heavy breathing on the other side of the video. Fucking amateur probably came in his pants. Or vomited. She couldn’t say which one was more likely, or more satisfying to her right now.

Her phone dinged.

**L: I’ll be waiting up, I want to hear about the wife**

Spann smiled lightly. She didn’t keep secrets from Lisa. That was the one stipulation she had when becoming involved with someone – she needed to trust them implicitly. Lisa had wriggled her way close enough to pull Spann to the alter. Fuck, she loved her.

And they were both intensely interested in the new player Preston had introduced into the game.

Mrs. Cromeans was not supposed to be here. Jesse had made it clear from the moment he put on the mask that his then-lover, now wife, would have nothing to do with the violent side of their work. As far as Miranda was concerned everything that Jesse did was on the up-and-up. 

That made her arrival… complicated.

They weren’t exactly subtle with the hardware set around the abandoned factory. They had no need to be. And now Preston was cock-blocking her attempts to corral the situation. 

What was his end game? What would he gain from having Jesse’s wife discover the truth about her husband’s ‘business’? 

Not knowing was driving Spann insane.

She was pulled from her contemplation by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall.

Prestons office door across from hers was filled with towering tattooed skin as Mr. Cromeans appeared and wrenched the door open. 

Watching silently, Spann observed the shirtless man huff in anger at the empty space his second was supposed to inhabit. Stomping inside she could hear him rifling through the desk, looking for god knows what.

He stepped back into the dimly lit hall moments later, looking agitated.

Spann decided to shoot her shot. 

“Sir…”

Jesse’s head snapped in her direction; brown eye zeroing in on her in a way she could only describe as predatory.

She licked her lips, determined to keep any intimidation she might feel off her face.

Jesse crossed the small hallway in two strides, not leaning into Spanns space but definitely letting her get a feel for how much height and raw strength he had on her. As if she didn’t know after hours upon hours of watching him butcher and hunt and torture from the safety of the other side of the camera.

_‘Find me a fish, Spann. I need a challenge.’_

Spann blinked. 

The nomenclature the Organization had adopted to refer to their quarry was quaint.

Piggies were whores – drug addicts – drains on society. Jesse’s particular brand were all beautiful women he lured in with money and good looks.

Fishies were different – they had status, families, some kind of connection; but one of those connections had placed them in the Organizations eye-line – and not in a good way.

Fishies were rarely permanently ‘hooked’. More of a catch and release until whatever connection they had could be handled to satisfaction. 

To have ChromeSkull go after a fishy was… rare.

But rarity was something Spann was adept at overcoming.

She smiled up at her boss.

“I think I have just the thing to cheer you up.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one door closes, look for another door.  
> TW: Self-harm, suicide attempt.

_‘What the fuck just happened?’_

That was the only thought racing through Miranda’s head as she stared, stunned, at the brushed metal of the door her husband had fled through.

The ache in her shoulders and the broken furniture confirmed the violence of the last few minutes; but the reality of it was so different from the man she’d known for over a decade that her brain couldn’t – it wouldn’t – come to the obvious conclusion. 

Jesse and she were both passionate people and they’d had their fights like any couple… but Miranda has never feared what her husband might do to her, until the moment his hands wrapped around her and she looked into a ferocious gaze she was wholly unfamiliar with.

She rose on shaking legs, wandering absently back to the bathroom where her dress lay discarded on the floor. 

The bare medicine cabinet met her gaze as she glanced up past the sink out of habit. 

Miranda realized unhappily what had probably happened to the mirror. 

Well, if Jesse thought she was just going to roll over and let him do whatever without her having her say… he was in for a big surprise.

She was no ones doormat, punching bag, or fuck-doll god dammit. 

Pulling her dress up with a yank she turned and marched to the door and out into the hallway, prepared to give Jesse the biggest piece of her mind to date; only to come to a screeching halt at the flurry of activity in the main room.

Shrieking and sparking machines spat out heat and noise as several men held what looked like wickedly formed knives to grindstones - while another group unloaded shining, waxed wooden coffins from the back of a truck. 

Miranda pulled herself back behind the wall and watched as Spann and Preston walked into the large room. They appeared deep in conversation – meaning Preston talked as Spann followed with a vaguely annoyed look on her face – and at a word from Preston several of the black-clad workers scurried away to another part of the warehouse Miranda couldn’t see.

What the fuck was going on here?

Moving quietly, Miranda slunk back into the main room, keeping as close to the wall as she could to avoid detection. Somehow, she managed to make it to the opposite hall without getting caught.

She mentally patted herself on the back. 

A cadre of gleaming metal doors met her gaze as she turned to survey her surroundings and she huffed in annoyance.

Of course, there wasn’t going to be a big blinking sign with ‘ _Shady Business Dealings’_ pointing her in the right direction. 

Listening hard for any movement she gingerly began testing the doors. 

Locked, locked, locked… jackpot.

The hinges were silent as the unlocked office slid open, allowing Miranda to slip inside.

Fuck, that’s a lot of black.

The room looked like something Marilyn Manson would approve of – Hot Topic chic at its lamest. 

_‘All you guys are missing is the evil cat… literally one step from cartoon villainy…’_

A soft snort of amusement escaped Miranda as she wandered through the office – glancing casually at the thin folders – black – the computer – black – the gleaming desk – also black… until she came to a stack of half a dozen video tapes. All labeled with what looked to be city names and some numerical indicator. 

The closest case read ‘Miami #1’ in neat print.

Glancing back to the doorway, Miranda strained for any sound indicating someone was coming her way.

Nothing.

She gently lowered herself into the desk chair and reached to tap on the keyboard, bringing the computer back to life.

The desk drawers were unlocked, allowing her to peer inside as she waited for the home screen to pop up. 

She reached into the depth of one and carefully withdrew a large, mean-looking knife with a serrated double-spine. There were small flecks of brown embedded in the ridges.

Shit…

This was getting worse and worse by the second. 

Maybe her initial panicked thought that Jesse was into gun-smuggling or drug-dealing hadn’t been too far off.

Either way, she owed it to herself and any future she might have with her husband to find out the truth.

Hesitantly, Miranda slowly inserted ‘Miami #1’ into the computer’s drive.

She pressed play.

_**“… I know you only paid for a blowjob but… don’t you want a little more?”** _

* * *

“Jesse, there’s been some questions raised as to your ability to continue on as the head of this Organization.”

The nitrile gloves stretched to near breaking as Jesse’s hands clenched.

He just bet there had…

There were very few people in the world who could bring ChromeSkull to heel and unfortunately the five faces staring at him from beyond the large screen in his office fit that description.

The Board felt the need to directly step-in for the first time in over a decade.

Jesse had made sure this was a very, very rare occurrence.

Efficiency and brutality were his trademark, no matter how Preston whined that he was too showy; he got the god damn job done.

For the last eight years as he’d led the Organization after his grandfather retired, he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d talked to all of the board members at once.

His fingers flew angrily across the keyboard.

_‘Whatever information you’ve been given is incorrect. My injuries are healing and I’m ready to continue the work.’_

An older man with a large handlebar moustache raised a bushy brow at his answer.

“It ain’t so much that you’re not healin’ well. It’s the… Aw hell… how do I say this… It’s your outside relationships we’re concerned about.”

A stern looking woman took over.

“Our source has reservations about your wife – and how she might be influencing your behaviors.”

Jesse blinked behind his mask.

_‘My wife has nothing to do with my business here.’_

“Except apparently, as of yesterday, she does. Is it not correct that she’s there in the facility with you now?”

If Jesse could have, he would have strangled Preston on the spot.

_‘She is.’_

“And did you or did you not fall into a ‘emotional state’ when a criticism of your wife’s presence was made?”

_‘If you’re asking if I disciplined my insubordinate second for making an off-color comment about my pregnant wife, then yes. I did.’_

Jesse felt what was left of his lips curl into a snarl at the memory.

_‘…And I’ll do a lot more than that when I get my hands on him after this ridiculous waste of time is finished…’_ he mentally promised.

Significant glances were sent from board member to board member and Jesse felt his stomach sink.

“I think we’ve heard enough…”

Jesse slammed his fist into the desk, leaving a dent in the metal surface and bringing all attention back to him.

_‘You could at least say ‘thank you’ for handling your Cannon problem before we part ways.’_

That visibly surprised the five people on the screen.

“What do you mean?”

Gotcha.

_‘Jessica Cannon is here. Sleeping off a nice cocktail of sedatives in a coffin.’_

Jesse leaned back in his chair as murmurs of disbelief and shock rattled across the computer speakers.

“… That’s very interesting news, Jesse. When did this happen?”

_‘Probably while Preston was busy feeding you all his load of bullshit. Sorry, I was getting some real work done.’_

“You know who she is then?”

Jesse smirked.

_‘You mean, do I know who her father is? Yes. I’m aware. Feel free to send him a little love note. I’ve already forwarded my video files to your server.’_

Another quietly muttered conversation crackled over the speaker.

“Alright Jesse. We’ll keep things status-quo for now. But you need to clean house.”

_‘I couldn’t agree more…’_

Preston was going to wish he’d never been born once Jesse was done with him.

His torturous plotting was interrupted by one final voice.

“And that includes your wife. Bring her onboard or… handle her. We can’t have loose ends.”

The screen went black. 

* * *

Miranda stared into the blackness on the computer feeling everything and nothing all at once.

A hysterical voice in her head was yelling how that had certainly explained a lot.

The long business trips, the unexplained scars, the fucking three months without a word.

She supposed getting your face ripped off and your skull bashed in would make video chats a little awkward.

The next thing she knew she was crouching on the cold cement floor emptying her stomach into the waste basket.

All those bodies… those women in the barn… her husband… her Jesse… holding the knife currently sitting so placidly on the desk and using it to decapitate a naked, crying blonde…

She vomited again as the gruesome pictures looped through her head.

She’d been in shock at the end of ‘Miami #1’. Her fingers were trembling and her mind racing as she quickly fed ‘Miami #2’ into the player.

Now she wasn’t sure what she was feeling besides horror.

And there were so many more tapes…

One of the drawers held fucking dozens of them.

Miranda lifted herself to lean against the desk and began to ram her coiled hand into it as hard as she could.

The pain felt… exquisite.

Tears began to stream down her face and her mouth shifted into a rictus grin as she saw smears of blood start to stain where her fists collided with the solid surface.

The clatter of metal on cement made her pause, and her gaze shifted from the blood-stained desk to the razor-sharp knife that had been knocked to the floor as she’d rattled it’s resting place.

Miranda choked out a laugh.

How many people had died on the edge of this knife? How many wives? Husbands? Sons? Daughters?

Why was she the exception to Jesse’s bloodlust?

Maybe she wouldn’t be. 

Maybe that would be the eventual end to all this.

Wife murdered by serial-killing husband.

How anti-climactic.

She reached out and took the knife in her bloodied hand. Dispassionately taking in every little detail as the dull roar of her thoughts got louder and louder. 

A sob echoed through the office as she leveled the sharp edge to her wrist and pressed down.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which life is not at all like a box of chocolates; but it’s true you never know what you’re going to get…  
> Again, TW: for self-harm and suicide attempt

What was she doing, what was she doing, oh GOD what was she doing?!

Red was all Miranda could see for a moment as a trickle of blood slid past the hideously sharp knife and down her wrist – droplets peacefully gliding down to splatter on the floor, unaware of their origin.

Eyes wide, her brain warred within her.

_‘Pull the knife, make it end..’_

_‘Stop!! Stop and fight!!’_

Peripherally, Miranda was aware that she was hardly in a fit state of mind to be making any decisions at the moment; but the deciding factor came as her stomach heaved with a small but mighty kick – as if her daughter could sense her mother’s distress.

With a strangled cry, Miranda withdrew the knife from her arm and tossed it as hard as she could across the dark room.

She collapsed back, heaving with emotion, and frantically began attempting to staunch the bleeding.

The thin linen of her dress wasn’t ideal; but the pain that came from her tight wrapping grounded her, and gave some momentary clarity.

Only to be interrupted by the office door being pushed open.

“Jesus, **FUCK**!”

Spann looked like a woman who was rarely surprised and quite frankly the expression didn’t suit her.

Miranda was sure she looked like a fucking mess, from her sweaty, tousled hair to her hiked up dress and blood-stained skin.

Delightful.

Before she could do more than open her mouth Spann was by her side, eyes taking in the lay of the room – specifically the empty video tape cases.

Another muttered _“fuck”_ and Spann had whipped out her phone and sent off a text to parties unknown.

“Don’t… please, Spann..”

Spann jerked her sharp gaze up to meet Miranda’s.

“Don’t what?”

“…don’t call Jesse…”

The snort that followed her comment was unexpected.

“No, I like my spleen right where it is, thanks. I’m getting you some help, I can’t stop this bleeding alone.”

Miranda hissed in pain as Spann’s hands joined hers in putting pressure on her wrist.

Without looking up Spann spoke.

“What were you thinking, Miranda?”

A fresh wave of tears dripped down Miranda’s face.

“He… he killed those women… he tried to kill that other girl… oh God, his face… and I would have done _the same thing_! He’s a murderer - you’re **ALL** murderers!”

Spann raised a brow, finally looking Miranda straight in the eye.

“Yes, he is. I don’t expect you to understand why we do what we do; but the Organization has been around long before you or I, and it’ll be here long after.”

Shaking her head, Miranda tried to make sense of what Spann was saying.

“The Organization? So this is some kind of organized crime thing?”

A shrug.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it… we, and especially your husband, are tasked by some very powerful people to… remove certain individuals from general society.”

“Jesse hired a fucking whore and then tried to kill her…”

“I suppose from an outside perspective it’s a bit hard to understand…”

Miranda gasped out a harsh laugh.

“It’s fucking psychotic is what it is!”

Spann sighed.

“That’s between you, Mr. Cromeans, and hopefully your marriage counselor.”

The curl of Miranda lip at that comment was completely involuntary.

“If I see Jesse right now, he won’t live long enough to make it to therapy.”

* * *

Preston whistled a jaunty tune as he strode down the halls of the chrome-plating factory.

God, what a dump.

And he knew it wasn’t for lack of funds. The Organization and by extension the Cromeans family had been keeping his life-style firmly in the ‘more than comfortable’ category for years. If they’d wanted they could all be floating in a giant chrome blimp for Christs sake. But no, gotta keep things under-wraps in anticipation of the next big screw-up.

Like this fucking nightmare. Preston didn’t know how; but it was beginning to seem like Jesse was aware of Preston’s… corporate climbing.

He’d gone completely off the rails and taken Jessica Cannon - who was supposed to be 100% off limits.

_‘I catch my own fish… mother fucker.’_

In his opinion, Jesse should have had the common decency to put a gun in his mouth the moment he came back to consciousness.

If _his_ face had been turned into dog food by some no-name whore… Well, he was too smart to let that happen anyway.

Preston smirked in remembrance of the look of shock on that Tommy kids roommates face as he’d plunged his knife into her chest. He was getting turned on just thinking about it, and Prestons hands itched for the flunkies in the armory to finish up his own knife.

Maybe he’d break it in on Jesse or his cunt of a wife.

He’d admit that plan had gone mildly off course… where was the bitch anyway?

This train of thought was interrupted as his phone buzzed in his coat pocket.

His new toy was ready. How exciting.

* * *

The blood flowing from Miranda’s wrist had slowed, as had the conversation.

Both women now sat at the desk, awkwardly looking anywhere but at each other - neither in the mood for a deep conversation on the ethics of The Organizations serial-killing/assassinating/black-mailing business.

Miranda was beginning to regret asking Jesse out for a drink all those years ago. She could have just stayed in her lane and married a nice boring lawyer who’d cheat on her with some barely legal co-ed and then she’s make bank on the divorce settlement.

Fuck, that was sounding pretty appealing right now.

The sound of a steady knock on the door brought both women out of their thoughts.

Spann rose, giving Miranda a reassuring look, and walked to the door - opening it to meet a tired-looking woman dressed in pajamas and a pea-coat.

“Hey.”

The woman smiled.

“Hi.”

“Thanks for coming.”

Leaning in, the woman placed an affectionate kiss on Spanns lips and walked through into the office, pulling her coat from her shoulders and dropping a leather back-pack onto the floor.

“You must be Miranda? I’m Doctor Lisa Bhasin. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Miranda gave a shallow nod.

“I hope all good things; but since you know Spann and probably my husband I’m guessing not…”

Lisa looked at her sympathetically as she unzipped her pack, pulling a trauma kit and some quick-clot gauze from its depths.

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to being ‘the spouse of’… but I promise it does get easier. And if it doesn’t, after the baby is out I can prescribe some Xanax.”

Spann let out a short giggle as Miranda gaped up at Lisa.

“…You’re joking.”

Lisa laughed and met Miranda’s startled look with a kind, understanding one of her own as she began examining the cut on Miranda’s arm.

“Maybe a little…”

While Lisa carried on with her exam, Spann moved behind her to boot up the computer on the desk - quickly cycling through a series of cameras until she stopped with a loud curse.

“Fuck, that son of a bitch!”

The other women startled at her tone, looking over her shoulder to see the screen.

Lisa gasped.

“Oh shit…”

Miranda felt her heart plummet. The shining chrome-skull mask was now an all-too familiar sight, and the man wearing it was striding towards a clearly-wounded woman, some kind of spinning blade held casually in his hand.

“Wait…” Miranda narrowed her gaze, pulling herself closer to the screen. “That’s not Jesse…”

“No.” Spann agreed, sounding angrier than Miranda had ever heard her.

“That’s Preston.”

Both Lisa and Miranda spoke at the same time.

“Preston?!”

“What?!”

Spann sat back in the chair, clearly deep in thought.

“He’s been trying to weasel his way into Mr. Cromeans positon in The Organization for a while. Looks like he’s finally making his move.”

Miranda sneered.

“Fine, he can have it.”

Lisa and Spann looked at each other briefly before Spann wet her lips and responded.

“I don’t think you understand, Miranda. This isn’t just a case of Preston getting an inflated ego… You don’t just _leave_ this job… He’s going to try and kill Mr. Cromeans, and you too if I had to guess. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still alive”

Miranda raised her bandaged wrist, waggling it in front of Spann.

“Well…?”

Spann rubbed her face tiredly.

“ _Jesus, all you Cromeans are the same_ …”

She raised a serious gaze to Miranda

“Look. I get you’re not happy with what you’d found out about your husband, I do. But right now, protecting his position in The Organization is the only way you and the baby are going to stay alive. It sucks; but that’s just how it is.”

Miranda sat back in the chair, looking from Spann to Lisa to the bloody horror occurring on the screen.

Unthinkingly, her hand rose to settle atop her distended stomach.

“Fuck. Fine. What do we do to help Jesse?”

Spann smirked.

“I’m glad you asked…”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What’s that thing they say about the best laid plans?

Miranda was beginning to understand how Spann had gotten so far in Jesse’s business.

The woman was a terrifying marvel.

After Lisa and Miranda had agreed to do whatever they could to aid Jesse/protect Miranda/fuck up Preston’s hostile take-over plans, Spann had immediately put them to work.

The pair were barricaded in Spann’s office, pouring over every single contract and document Preston had signed or presented in the last three years.

Well, more like, Lisa was scanning the Organization’s archive and Miranda was reviewing the legal-ese.

Spann had also conjured up Miranda’s bag - and she was more than happy to change out of her shredded, sweaty, bloody dress into a pair of clean jeans and a tee-shirt. Feeling more like an actual person than she had in several hours, Miranda was fully focused on the screen before her - absorbing each tiny detail of the documents and noting anything even slightly suspicious on a notepad. She had nearly filled this one. Preston had been a very busy boy.

It also offered an emotionless peek behind the curtain of The Organization’s dealings - which was the only way Miranda felt she could process things right now. Even so, as dispassionately as it was laid out, it was still hard to read.

God, how could she have been so blind?

She’d been married to a serial-killer for over four years and she hadn’t suspected a thing. It would have been embarrassing if it wasn’t so damn sad.

Throughout their engagement and their marriage, Jesse had seemed dead-set on keeping his promise to make her the happiest woman in the world; and when he’d asked if she’d thought about having a baby she hadn’t hesitated. They’d be the perfect family.

Of course, every couple had their problems - she just hadn’t expected the gilded glow of her own to tarnish in quite the way it had.

It would have been so much easier if he’d just been having an affair.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Lisa laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you doing okay? Do you need a break?”

Miranda gave the dark-haired woman a small smile. Maybe it was because they were in very similar situations; but she’d immediately taken a liking to Lisa.

“No, I think the work is helping me stay sane right now; but I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”

Miranda winced. Well, she couldn’t use that particular hyperbolic statement anymore.

Lisa grinned, giving her stomach a look, then raising an eyebrow back at the blonde.

“And would that be spiked or…”

A small chuckle escaped as Miranda looked woefully down at her pregnant belly.

“Spiked, with a side of jalapeno poppers. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Lisa laughed.

“I’ll get you some hot water and lemon. Basically the same thing, right?”

“Right.”

The other woman left, leaving Miranda to return to the contract she’d been perusing.

She was interrupted again as a loud electronic shrieking sounded out from the hall speakers.

Reflexively, her hands shot up to cover her ears until the reverberating sound of a tearful female voice echoed over the din.

_‘Mom! Mom… I don’t…where I… find… PLEASE!’_

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Miranda stood, pacing as quickly as she could toward the office door before coming to an abrupt halt.

This was exactly the kind of thing that would get her killed… or captured… or whatever the fuck Preston wanted with her. Honestly it was like a badly written action movie. Female lead goes off and does something stupid - gets herself taken - hero comes in, guns blazing and saves the day.

The summer blockbuster formula almost made her gag. And she very much doubted that Jesse would be in the rescuing mood if her grand scheme ended with whoever he’d kidnapped escaping.

Miranda paced the room, biting at her thumbnail, waiting as long as she could for some kind of sign that she should take action.

A loud scream echoing down the hall clinched it.

She was about to do something very, _very_ stupid.

* * *

Jesse sincerely hoped he never had to play poker with Spann. She would win, hands down.

They both sat in Jesse’s office as Spann assisted him in the now pitifully difficult job of shaving his head.

She’d found him standing over the razor and steaming bowl - bare-faced and glaring down at them, trying to work out how he was going to be able to do this himself.

Mirrors were for people with _faces_ … and potentially hazardous self-grooming was for people with two functioning eyes.

God he really was pathetic.

Preston’s assistants face had been blank and still as she’d asked to shave him; which was probably the only reason he hadn’t gutted her simply for walking in on him.

She hadn’t offered him pity or framed it as her ‘helping’ him.

He appreciated that.

It also gave him an opportunity to check in on what his traitorous fixer was up to.

**_‘It’s not the mask that’s intimidating… it’s the man behind it…’_ **

While Jesse did actually agree with the statement, the fact that is was coming from Preston was pretty fucking hilarious.

_‘Kills three people and he thinks he’s Michael Myers…’_

“He’s mocking you now? He decides who lives or dies?” Spann sounded disgusted.

_‘It’s time for a change in personnel, just not the one Preston wants.’_ Jesse signed, tilting his head so Spann could scrape the sharp metal over his temple.

The woman didn’t pause in her careful movements; but Jesse could see the slight tilt of her lips as she absorbed his words.

“You’re making the right decision.”

She gently toweled the soap from his scalp, running her hands over it to check her work.

“This will all go smoothly.”

Jesse stood from the chair, towering over the small woman who’d just earned her place at his right hand.

_‘Take care of it; but leave Preston to me.’_

Spann smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

Stepping over to his computer, Jesse took great joy in telling Preston he was out - Spann leaning just barely out of the camera’s eyeline to appreciate the look of shock and horror on Preston’s face before he casually flicked his camera off.

If the pair had been paying a little closer attention to their other screen, they just might have seen a shape move awkwardly out from behind a coffin and make their way slowly closer to Jessica and Tommy.

* * *

This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea…

Miranda could have slapped herself for being so impulsive. What the hell was she thinking? Even on her best days she was far from sneaky, and it was even harder to slink around when you couldn’t see the floor to avoid tripping hazards.

She bent down as low as she could to hide behind an open casket lid while she waited for Preston to finish talking to a half-naked girl.

Miranda winced in sympathy as Preston got close to the poor kid. She looked terrified, and with good reason.

The boy Preston had dragged in looked like he was down for the count too.

She wished she’d taken a moment to grab Jesse’s knife from the office - the damn thing was the definition of ‘style over substance’; but it would have been better than nothing.

Thankfully, she was close enough to hear everything Preston was saying.

He really was that much of a prick, huh?

A surprising surge of protective anger flooded through her as she listened to Preston go off about Jesse.

_‘Hey, that’s_ my _fucking serial-killer you’re talking about, asshole!’_

Miranda groaned silently.

She’d deal with that particular bullshit after the girl was safely out of here… And _then_ she’d deal with the _other_ flavors of bullshit this whole mess had turned up, not the least of which was protecting her serial-killer from the OTHER serial-killer who was staging the murderer’s equivalent of the Russian Revolution.

“This is gonna be over quick, alright? See one way or another, one of us is going to slice you.”

Preston smashed the boys head into the concrete floor before hoisting him up and walking him over to a large bank of computer screens.

Miranda shifted slightly as Preston spoke casually into the still air.

“Hey boss, you ah, you recognize this kid? He was with the girl in Ashville?”

Oh fuck, that’s why he looked so familiar.

He was the boy from the store. He’d been there when Jesse was trying to kill the prostitute.

She had to get them out. There wasn’t any question in her mind.

A sharp beeping from the largest screen brought Miranda’s attention back to the scene. A familiar silhouette filled it, and what Jesse wrote next was… surprising.

**YOUR POSTION AT**

**THE ORGANIZATION IS**

**NO LONGER REQUIRED.**

Then the screen went black.

Preston stood, frozen, staring at the blank monitor for a few seconds as the two captives sat tearfully at his feet.

When he did move, Preston bent down, muttering something to the pair too low for Miranda to hear, before stepping out of sight.

Miranda made her move.

As slowly and quietly as possible, she slipped out from behind the casket lid.

The sneakers she’d replaced her sandals with made the barest of squeaking noises as she tip-toed over to the bound pair.

It would be a lie to say the comical widening of the boy’s eyes wasn’t a little funny - but she supposed it was fair to say he probably wasn’t expecting an enormously pregnant woman with bruises and a bandaged arm to come to their rescue.

If she’d heard correctly, the girl was legally blind… or almost… so she wasn’t surprised that she was a little slower on the uptick than her fellow captive.

But when the girl did notice Miranda had to jolt forward to cover the girls mouth as she inhaled sharply. She couldn’t risk too much noise, and she offered the girl an apologetic look when she finally lowered her hand.

_“Sorry.”_ Miranda whispered.

_“What the fuck?!”_

Tommy scooted back on his ass to get a better look at her.

_“Jesus, lady what are you doing here?!”_

Miranda frowned.

_“None of your fucking business. Just know I’m here to help. I’m gonna get you out.”_

The girl looked up at her with watery eyes.

_“I’m Jess.”_

That nearly made Miranda snort. Of course she was. Hopefully Jess ** _ica_** would be less trouble for her than Jess ** _e_**.

_“I’m Tommy.”_

“And her name is Miranda.”

A voice from behind caused all three of them to freeze, Jess and Tommy looking fearfully over Miranda’s shoulder.

Fuck. She knew this would happen.

“Hello Preston.”

Miranda stood, turning slowly to face the man in black; making sure to keep the kids behind her.

“Did you come back to clean out your office? I heard you got the shaft. Too bad.”

Preston smiled, showing all his teeth as his hands formed into fists.

“Ah yeah, Jesse gave me my walking papers. But what in the world are you doing down here?”

Miranda circled as Preston did, making sure he always stayed in her direct line of sight.

“Me? Oh, you know, bored housewife. Emphasis on the bored. Thought I’d take a little stroll.”

Casually, Preston pulled a familiar bladed tool from his belt, making Miranda’s heart beat faster.

“Well, I’m so glad we could run into each other like this. Pretty fortuitous.”

“…Oh?”

“Mmhmm… see, I think this is gonna go one of two ways. Either your hubby is going to come down here to the rescue - at which point I’ll cut his ugly face off again - and make it stick. OR he won’t, and I’ll carve the fucking baby out of you and let Jesse deal with the clean-up. Either way, it’s time for a little payback.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Preston charged.

Miranda screamed, uncaring if the whole facility heard her, and ran.

She moved as quickly as she could back towards the hallway, nearly grasping the handle before Preston was on her.

His arms wrapped tightly around her chest as they rammed into the metal, making her yelp in pain and wrap her hands protectively around her stomach as she writhed in his grip, trying everything she could to break free.

Her foot collided with his knee, causing him to hiss out a curse and momentarily loosen his grip.

Miranda shifted, trying to use her weight to unbalance him; but it was too late.

One hand wrapped unforgivingly into her hair and Preston slammed her head into the metal door once, twice, three times until Miranda’s vision began to fade and her muscles relaxed.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was the steady red blinking of a security camera.


End file.
